SATURDAY MORNING AT THE FREE STORE
What more could I possibly want in life other than a pink, tie dyed cotton dress to go with my Spanish sandals? Nothing more. No. And I found one in the Free Store two weeks ago.
But wait: one success breeds another. Last Saturday morning I continued my hunt at the Free Store. My heart sank when I saw that C. was already there. Don’t get me wrong, C. and I recognize each other with respect and fondness, and we greeted each other effusively.
We had both lived the life in the Lower Mainland in previous times. Think: the Coquitlam Mall. Many many tiny stores are hidden away in malls, clothes stores owned by savvy women from Hong Kong selling imported well-tailored suits and pants in subdued grey and navy, made of wools and cotton, hemp and linen, perfect to impress your clients or board members, or for that information meeting you need to attend to rezone a creek side wetland to high density residential.
Early Saturday morning in those days was “beat the traffic, get to the mall, and snag the sales items”.
Last week at the Free Store, my heart sank because I knew the clothes would have been well picked over by C. before I had got there. But look! In the long dresses and costume section, she had missed a perfect 100% linen “made in Italy”, size small, soft ivory, long printed dress, with pockets. Victory? Well, yes, I admitted to it as I ironed the lovely dress later at home.
But, perhaps C. had seen me coming and had left it for me on purpose. That I would like to believe.
